


You Say That Now, But

by Thistlerose



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: M/M, Post-Film, Slash, captain's chair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-20
Updated: 2010-08-20
Packaged: 2017-10-11 04:31:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/108430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thistlerose/pseuds/Thistlerose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kirk's naive if he thinks nothing will change once he's promoted to captain. Sulu can't bring himself to disillusion him, though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Say That Now, But

"_Captain_?" Kirk says in an incredulous tone as he follows Sulu onto the darkened bridge. "Come on, that's bullshit. I'll get an official commendation, maybe a medal. If I'm lucky, they won't demote me to ensign."

He can be so fucking naïve sometimes. It's kind of cute, and it almost makes Sulu laugh. "You saved the planet, man," he says. "Computer, can we get some lights in here?"

At once, all the bridge lights flicker on. "Reduce to thirty percent," Kirk says, and a second later, they're plunged into a heady sort of dimness. Sulu feels Kirk's hands on his waist, and he turns. Their mouths meet. Kirk nips at his bottom lip, then pushes his tongue in, getting straight to the point as usual. Sulu is fractionally more circumspect. He's pretty sure the ship is deserted – by this time of night, the repair crew should be long gone – but he hesitates to let himself go completely. His fingertips trace the stubble-rough contours of Kirk's cheeks and chin, skittering over the scars at the corner of his mouth.

Kirk hums encouragingly. He bites down gently on Sulu's tongue, sucking it between his own lips while his fingers curl around the hem of Sulu's off-duty uniform shirt. He's trying to tug him someplace, and Sulu goes along with it, still a little worried that they're going to get caught – they're not supposed to be up here – but caring less and less.

Kirk stops abruptly after a few paces, startling Sulu. Their teeth clash and Sulu winces, but then Kirk is gripping his waist again and sinking backward, into what must be a chair. The captain's chair, Sulu realizes as he half-falls on top of Kirk, bracing himself by placing his palms on the armrests.

_This is so wrong,_ Sulu thinks as he slides a knee between Kirk's spread thighs. This is Pike's chair. Kirk fills it nicely, though. Which is one of the reasons they _are_ going to promote him to captain, whether he believes it or not. Kirk's parents might be Starfleet, but he's a fucking farmboy who's lived all his life in rural Iowa. Sulu was born and raised in San Francisco. He knows Starfleet. He knows how they operate. They have a ship full of heroes to decorate and feed to the media, but they're going to want a figurehead – and who better than the _Kelvin_ baby, all grownup, brilliant, and gorgeous?

Kirk breaks the kiss. "Come on," he murmurs against Sulu's lips. "I can feel you thinking. Stop. Just … c'mon." He teases a corner of Sulu's frown with the tip of his tongue, and when Sulu opens his mouth to groan, Kirk starts nibbling his way down the line of his jaw. He bites lightly on his chin (really, what's up with the teeth tonight?) then pulls back and says, "Captain? Seriously?"

Sulu is all but in Kirk's lap by this point. He's hard, and not at all sure he wants to be having this conversation now, even though he's the one who brought it up (before Kirk started manhandling him, but still). "Seriously," he says, combing a hand through Kirk's hair, messing it up and grinning down at him.

"You think it'll change things?"

"Uh, yeah. What, you don't?"

Kirk tips his head back. In the dimness, his eyes are dark and shiny, reminding Sulu of the Pacific at night. His teeth flash. "Don't know. They don't have to."

So damn innocent sometimes. If you didn't know him, you probably wouldn't guess it – especially if you looked at him now, when he's pretty much leering, his fingers tracing Sulu's erection through the front of his pants. But Hikaru Sulu roomed with Jim Kirk for the entire crawl back to Federation space. Kirk blinked in surprise just about every time a seasoned officer called him _Captain_. Sulu was there, and he saw it. He also saw the sheen of tears – discreetly knuckled away – when they finally got the official death toll from Vulcan. (Sulu cried too, but he held it in until he was standing in the sonic shower, naked and alone.) He remembers the startling shyness the first time they changed together, Kirk turning his back as he pulled his shirt over his head – so Sulu wouldn't see the cuts and bruises on his front, which was completely stupid – Sulu later told him – since his back was just as messed up.

The first time they fucked – after an awkward round of, "Uh, thanks for saving my life," "Sure, and, uh, thanks for saving mine," "Uh, your sword is cool" – okay, Kirk clearly wasn't a virgin. But he was weirdly sweet afterward. He didn't cuddle – which was great, since Sulu is not and never has been a cuddler – but he lay there beside him, limbs splayed, breath tattered, hair spiked with sweat. And then he started talking. About all kinds of shit: Iowa, the bike he fixed up and regretted giving away, his favorite unsolved theorem. Like he was lonely, or something, and just wanted to _talk_. It was weird. And sweet.

Remembering all that, Sulu doesn't say anything. Kirk can keep his delusions for a while longer, if he likes. When he finds out he's wrong, it'll be okay; he'll survive. He has a tough outer layer, which gives his vulnerabilities some shielding. He'll need that when he's captain.

As for Sulu … he has calluses of his own, and yeah, he'll be all right too.

He nudges Kirk's inner thigh with his knee and curls over him, digging his fingers into the muscular shoulders. "That's what I'm talking about," Kirk breathes just before Sulu kisses his mouth hungrily – greedily, really. He grinds against him. The friction, the slide of Kirk's tongue, and feverish stutter of his fingers as he unzips Sulu's fly and fondles him through his briefs – it's fucking fantastic. Sulu feels Kirk's moan; it vibrates against his lips, all the way down to the base of his throat. He takes that, takes all he can without reservation, slamming Kirk hard into the captain's chair, then reeling him back in, claiming him with hands, tongue, and thighs.

Because the Admiralty doesn't have Jim Kirk under its thumb _yet_. Tonight and tomorrow morning, until they pin that shiny medal to his chest and add that bar to his cuffs, they're still equals in rank, and his ass belongs to Hikaru Sulu.

7/26/10


End file.
